Mint Sauce
by peppermint quartz
Summary: Ichigo is cranky because of finals. M, pretty much PWP, UraharaxIchigo. Set in the 'Not About You' universe. Bleach is not mine.
1. Mint

**A/N: Idea came to me as I was popping Tic Tacs. This is set in the _Not About You _universe, after Ichigo moves in with Urahara. Practically PWP, therefore an M, and I'm not certain I'm continuing with this.**

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**Mint**

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"Ichigo, do you have Grimmjow's cell number?" asked Urahara, peeking into the study. He really didn't want to disturb his lover, but this was important.

Ichigo threw a dirty glare at Urahara before tossing the blond a slim cell phone. Urahara caught it easily and ducked out of the immediate vicinity of the redhead. Ichigo was studying for his finals, and tended to be irritated by anything and everything that broke his concentration. Irritated in the sense of beating the source of irritation into a smear in the ground, or something close to it, if Urahara was not around to secure the perimeter. And since Ichigo wouldn't actually kill Urahara, the older man was technically safe where he was.

Technically.

The blond sighed as he scrolled down the contact list for Grimmjow's name. Ichigo was no fun at all in this period. If not for the fact that Urahara loved the young man to tiny bits and wanted to see Ichigo succeed wildly, the shopkeeper would be devising methods to distract Ichigo.

Grimmjow picked up almost immediately. "Yeah, Ichigo?"

"Urahara here, actually. I just wanted to remind you it's time for the bimonthly check of your gigai."

"It's working fine."

"Just drop by. You can wait outside the gigai while I examine it for the damage you invariably inflict on my masterpiece," said Urahara, twirling his hat on his cane. The door on the other end opened to admit Tessai, dressed now in the official robes of the Kido Corps commander. Urahara waggled his fingers in greeting but kept talking to Grimmjow. "Can you settle on a date to come in? The earlier the better."

Grimmjow made an impatient sound but decided to drop in three days later in the evening.

Tessai smiled. "Good to see you're keeping tabs on the hollow, Boss."

"I'm not keeping tabs," said Urahara, "I'm just concerned for the quality of my merchandise. He's still paying off the installments." He walked up to the tall man and hugged his friend. "How have you been? Commander again, I see."

"Yes." Tessai followed Urahara down to the sitting room. "The ranks of the corps have been depleted greatly; we're actively recruiting from the Academy. I'm busy practically every moment of the day, swamped with all sorts of demands and odd requests."

"Just like you were when you stayed here," chuckled the blond.

"Exactly."

Tea took some time to prepare, so the two friends chatted about various trivialities, until Tessai brought up the real reason for his visit.

"Yoruichi-sama is missing," Tessai told Urahara as he poured out the tea.

"Missing?" Urahara leaned forward. "We just met with her only four, five months ago, with Kuukaku."

"Chiba-san is missing too."

Urahara groaned. "They're up to something," he stated.

Tessai risked a crooked grin. "Which is why I am here. As the commander, I jolly well can't join them and definitely can't dissuade them."

"And you come to me. Bravo, Tessai." Urahara raised an eyebrow. "You're just getting back at me for the exploding green hollow incident, aren't you?"

"I am not," said Tessai, radiating innocence from every pore. The shopkeeper could swear he saw a halo flare briefly around the tall man's head.

Urahara blew out a long, slow breath. "Fine, fine. I'll go look. But don't count on me to stop them from their tricks, okay?"

"But I can count on your joining them?" Tessai laughed loudly before Urahara could stop him.

"_WHAT THE HELL IS THAT NOISE_??!!?" Ichigo roared from somewhere in the second story.

The blond winced. "You'd better go before he turns bankai."

Tessai, seeing his friend's grimace, complied readily.

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Ichigo's fists whitened with tension as he stalked down the corridor. This was _finals week_, and Urhara _knew_ better than to make any _noise _that took his _attention _away from his _studies_... The fact that he was thinking in italics meant he had been highlighting his notes and his books a little too much, and was of no concern.

The death-ray-glower was, however, of great concern.

Urahara was alone, but Ichigo noticed the two cups of tea on the low table. "Who was it?" he spat.

"Uh, Tessai, but he's gone now." Urahara was backing away surreptitiously. His words tumbled over each other.

Ichigo's lip curled (and it would take a far braver man than Urahara to tell the redhead how adorable he looked, like a kitten about to attack a ball of yarn) and then the redhead stalked into the room.

He marched right up to Urahara, who flattened himself against the wall. Dark red and black reiatsu curled about the younger male, as if he was wearing his mask.

Yes, finals season was not a good time to be around Kurosaki Ichigo.

"I said before that I need to clear this semester," Ichigo enunciated carefully. "And since I really, really find all that crapload of information upstairs supremely difficult to process without silence, and your basement is, of all things, flooded, I appreciated your trying to maintain a zone of absolute calm about me. Tessai's visit could have been taken elsewhere though."

Casually pinning Urahara with a forearm, Ichigo popped two small mints into his mouth before he slipped the box into his jeans. One lean thigh insinuated its way between the older man's legs. Urahara, not expecting that tack, shivered.

Ichigo leaned in, his voice perceptibly altering to a rasp/growl as he murmured, "I'm gonna _thank _you for your efforts, and you will remember this the next time anyone visits."

"Uh..... all right.... oh," Urahara's eyelids fluttered as Ichigo locked his teeth about his earlobe and worried it, while a hand slipped into his loose samue pants and began fondling. It had been a long time (two weeks, three days and seven hours, to be exact) since they had last engaged in any sexual play, and Urahara felt himself rising to the occasion. Soft moans sounded unbidden from his throat; he heard Ichigo's chuckle before a wet tongue forced its way into the recesses of Urahara's ear.

Ichigo grinned as Urahara cried out from the assault. The blond was seldom submissive in stance or attitude, but now he was clutching Ichigo's shoulder and waist, his frame shuddering as Ichigo licked and traced the curves of Urahara's left ear. Ichigo ran his right hand over Urahara's chest and then tugged the belt apart, sliding his fingers up smooth, warm skin. He brushed his digits over hardening nipples, alternating, while his left hand never stopped stroking below. When Urahara started whining for greater contact, his hips pushing forward, Ichigo withdrew his left hand from the older man's erection and reached around to caress the small of Urahara's back instead.

"Ichigo..." Urahara complained, his fingers tracking into soft orange hair and tugging on the strands. "I want you."

"I know that." Ichigo popped another two mints into his mouth before dropping to his knees and kissing Urahara's exposed belly button, his tongue flicking in. He pulled the dark green pants down and pressed gentle kisses around the base of the heated length, his tongue darting out to taste soft skin on the inside of Urahara's thighs. The blond groaned, his hand trying to guide Ichigo where he needed the young man's mouth, but Ichigo resisted, clever fingers dancing up Urahara's calves and back of knees.

Just when Urahara was about to yell at his lover for teasing him, Ichigo took the blond shopkeeper's hot arousal into his mouth. Urahara's gasp turned into harsh panting; Ichigo's tongue rolled the mints against the underside of Urahara's cock as the young redhead bobbed his head. The tingling intensified when Ichigo caressed Urahara's legs with the flat of his palms while he sucked and lapped greedily.

Releasing his hold on Urahara's erection, Ichigo flicked his tongue over the throbbing head and down the shaft, laving open-mouthed kisses and rubbing the mints in tiny circles into heated skin. Urahara hissed. The cool sensation of mint was reacting strangely with his lust, and Ichigo had almost released all of his control on his reiatsu, trapping Urahara before the blond man had a chance of defending himself.

But lord this felt _good_, Ichigo's warm mouth sucking on his balls and his fingers sliding around his thighs. His knees were about to buckle and Urahara made an effort to remain standing. His hands tried to brace himself against the wall and his hips bucked forwards again when Ichigo took him down his throat once more.

"Ichigo, please, more," he whispered, the plea echoing from his body and soul. He missed this, so much, and having Ichigo take control of the situation was always good. "Please."

"Begging already?" Ichigo leered up at his older lover, the orange hair partially hiding one eye. He stuck his tongue out and licked up the side of Urahara's cock, his gaze never leaving Urahara's eyes. "Been missing me that much, huh."

"You have – aah – you have no idea." The older male's arms shook as he restrained himself from throwing Ichigo down. The redhead was enjoying the session, and Urahara found himself perversely deciding to go with the torture. _Though_, he amended privately, _if he decided to stop before I come, I'm not gonna let him wa-_

Without warning Ichigo swallowed Urahara hard, one of his hands gripping Urahara's hips tightly and the other palming his sac. The older man arched off the wall as he orgasmed, thrusting into Ichigo and unable to stop himself. Ichigo rode out the motion easily. When the blond sagged back, Ichigo lapped up the drops that had not been drunk the first time round and cleaned off his fingers methodically.

Then he stretched and stood up. "All right, I'm going back to the books. There are still five more days of finals, and if you dare allow anything to break my concentration, you can have this memory to warm you up for a _month_."

Urahara could only blink and nod. Ichigo sauntered out, disregarding the bulge in his own jeans. The blond shopkeeper shook his head as his foggy mind cleared. _Okay, Ichigo really must be frustrated._ A gleam brightened in Urahara's eye. He would have to help Ichigo relieve all that stress later tonight.


	2. Sauce

**A/N: PWP, M, BL. Urahara x Ichigo, which you know since it's a continuation, and this is it for the Mint Sauce short fic :)**

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**Sauce**

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"Finally!" Ichigo threw down his bag in the study and collapsed on the daybed that they bought from Ikea a month ago. "I feel like dying."

Urahara grinned and put away the plans for an extension to the shop. "You exaggerate."

Ichigo wrinkled his perfect nose at his lover. "I hate finals."

"They're over, so it's good," said Urahara, going over to the daybed and pecking a light kiss on Ichigo's forehead. The redhead caught Urahara's arm and looked up with a small pout. The blond shopkeeper smirked. "What?"

"I want," Ichigo purred suggestively.

"Oh no, it's my turn to cook dinner," replied Urahara, "and the kids are coming over tonight."

"But we haven't for the entire month, and I miss you." The pout was a blatant plea now; Ichigo even fluttered his lashes to maximize his adorableness.

The shopkeeper was unmoved. "Dinner. I do NOT wish to traumatize the kids with a visual of what you intend for me to do to you."

Ichigo huffed irritably. "Fine."

"Go shower."

"Fine."

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By the end of dinner, Ururu had grudgingly allowed that Urahara's cooking had improved, Jinta was herded by Ururu into the kitchen to help with the washing up, and Karin pronounced herself 'stuffed to the gills'.

"What, are you sharing characteristics with Yuutsubame now?" teased Ichigo.

"You are insufferable," Karin stated before she picked up her empty plate.

Her brother grinned lopsidedly. "You and your two-dollar vocabulary. What are you doing, memorizing the dictionary?"

"Just because you're in university doesn't mean you've inherited all the brains," retorted Karin.

"Just admit that you're in no way better than I am in language."

"And you just love playing big brother-"

"-that's because I _am_ your big brother, lil' sis."

Yuzu shook her head and sighed as she told Urahara that she thought the bickering between Karin and Jinta was bad enough. "She just gets worse and worse – the other day she picked a squabble with Tatsuki-chan."

"Why?"

"No idea." Yuzu frowned, her mouth forming a cute pout reminiscent of her brother's. "I think she misses Toushiro-kun."

Urahara smiled and patted her hand. "I'll drop a discreet word."

"Thanks, Urahara-san."

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"I needed that," Ichigo admitted after Jinta and the three girls had got on their bicycles and rode off. "I missed them."

Urahara ruffled his lover's orange hair. "I thought you did."

"Thanks, Kisuke. That was thoughtful of you." Ichigo leaned on Urahara's shoulder and inhaled deeply. "I've missed your scent too..."

Urahara smiled and pressed his mouth to Ichigo's brow. "We have dessert."

"Dessert?"

"Mm-hmm." Urahara took Ichigo's hand and led him up the stairs. "Special dessert, made by yours truly for the hardworking, dedicated man."

The redheaded young man linked his fingers through Urahara's and followed him. He had an inkling what was about to happen, and he was ravenous for it.

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"Wait a minute."

"Nope."

"But you said dessert for a hardworking, dedicated man."

"I did?"

"Yes you did!"

"Who did you think I meant?"

"Me!"

Urahara Kisuke smirked wickedly. "You know, I distinctly recall a blond, handsome shopkeeper who kept away all intruders, visitors and disturbances for four weeks, three days, seven hours and eighteen minutes until a certain young orange-haired bully headed for his final final paper. That handsome blond shopkeeper was made to do all the chores, cook all the meals, and keep himself entertained for the four weeks, three days, seven hours and eighteen minutes, not counting the time the bully allowed the handsome blond shopkeeper some pleasurable company."

Speechless, Ichigo glared at his lover.

Urahara grinned and licked his lips. "Bon apetit, honey."

Ichigo groaned when Urahara started undressing him. Clever fingers undid a gray shirt, oh-so-carefully brushing fingertips over dusky nipples; soft lips trailed down a flat stomach, lingering over well-defined abdominal muscles and tongue flicking over the slight depression of the belly button; teeth and tongue worked the jeans button loose; teeth which then latched onto a zipper and drew it down. Urahara nuzzled into the soft curls thus exposed before sliding the tight pair of denim jeans off lean, toned legs. He didn't forget pressing kisses into the slender but strong ankles, and stroked up the backs of the legs until his hands cupped a firm ass. Urahara slipped out of his pants and rubbed his own arousal along Ichigo's inner thigh.

"Kisuke, please," Ichigo hissed. "I need more than this."

"Patience, lover." Urahara licked his dry lips. He then uncapped a new jar. "I made this for tonight. Smell?"

A gentle hint of citrus wafted into Ichigo's nostrils. The older man liberally applied the gel to Ichigo's cock and as his hands moved, the arousal hardened. Ichigo hissed again, wanting desperately to feel Urahara.

The blond licked up the underside of Ichigo's erection, making certain his young lover could see him take the head into his mouth and his cheeks hollow as he sucked hard. His tongue rolled about the head and he began kissing up and down the shaft, tongue tracing around to lick up the citrus sauce.

"Kisuke, please, if you want me to beg-"

"Hush, Ichigo, shush. Let me enjoy dessert." Urahara's gray-green gaze darkened and he opened another jar, this time one of chocolate. Fingertips slicked chocolate over Ichigo's chest, Urahara happily fingerpainting on his lover's body. "Did you know chocolate literally makes people happy? Cocoa encourages the production of endorphins."

He tasted his fingers. "Mmm. Heaven." His lower lip caught in his teeth, Urahara eyed the lines of chocolate sauce all over Ichigo. "Heaven spread before me."

Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut. It was _hell_.

Urahara got to work, getting rid of the chocolate on firm, slightly damp skin. His mouth closed over Ichigo's left nipple. Ichigo's breathing picked up pace as Urahara nibbled on the nub with his lips and played his tongue over it.

"Urahara Kisuke, if I have to kick your ass to get you to fuck my ass..." Ichigo's voice was a raspy growl now. The older man chuckled. He could hear the desperation: even the inner hollow was out to play.

"Patience, patience." The blond cleaned off the chocolate smeared on his own cheeks.

"Kisuke..."

The shopkeeper hummed a recent pop hit under his breath as he slicked lubricant down Ichigo's arousal, past the silky sac and behind. His slender fingers disappeared and he pumped his hand slowly. One finger; two; three, each probing and twisting and scissoring to ease the way for later activities.

"Kisuke!" Ichigo was practically salivating now.

Urahara decided he had had enough fun. Ichigo's knuckles were white on the bars of his cage from watching Urahara do whatever he wanted to Ichigo's corporeal form. The older man unlocked the reiatsu cage he had trapped Ichigo's shinigami form into.

Ichigo could not jump into his body fast enough; the second he had merged he shuddered violently. "Oh good lords... oh god." The tension from his being forced to watch and the state of arousal his body was already at combined to smash his nerves into wrecks. "How-how did you know- oh gods."

"Arousal is an involuntary response to stimulus, my love, and does not require higher brain functions to happen," murmured Urahara, applying his hands to more useful duties while he kissed Ichigo's neck. "As for how I know..." he squeezed his hand lightly and Ichigo cried out. "I experimented. And thus... the accumulation of sensation until your soul is present to enjoy it."

Ichigo gasped air into his failing lungs and clutched at Urahara's shoulders. "Now," he demanded. "Stop t-teasing and fuck me now."

"Ask nicely," commanded Urahara, tonguing Ichigo's jaw and ear as his hips pushed forward. His hand slipped behind and a long finger traced the cleft that led to where Ichigo wanted Urahara to be.

The redhead's plea was breathy and soft, but the need was as obvious as the sun. "Kisuke, I'm beggin' you, please, I can't, I need – please, Kisuke, please."

Urahara couldn't resist. "Please what?"

"Fuck me. Please fuck me." Ichigo's whines turned into a sharp cry when Urahara complied.

The slick, satiny heat enveloped Urahara and he shoved himself deep. He had needed this, as much as Ichigo. If not for the fact that he wanted some payback for tiptoeing around Ichigo for the past month, he would have stripped the young man the second he got home from his exam and not allowed him up from the bed for a week.

The latter part could still be arranged, Urahara thought hazily, his mouth sucking hungrily on the base of Ichigo's neck. Ichigo was rocking back and forth, thrusting his hips into Urahara's and impaling himself deeper and deeper. His throaty cries were becoming increasingly urgent; Urahara came first, desperately pushing forward into his lover, and his fist tightened about Ichigo's cock. The redhead followed, his back arching up into Urahara's body, tensing so much about Urahara that the blond himself hissed.

When the aftershocks ebbed away, Urahara carefully slid out of Ichigo. "You owe me at least three more days and nights of this," he informed the young man when they had both caught their breaths.

A corner of Ichigo's mouth curled up. "Only three?"

Urahara raised an eyebrow.

With a glint in his eye, Ichigo shifted to lie on his side. "I can raise more than that, Kisuke."

The blond looked down. Then he smirked. "I see."

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End file.
